‘I can’t believe they’re all gone’

THE last time neighbours saw Mary Keegan out and about, she was her usual happy, busy self, rushing around after two energetic boys and cracking jokes with mock exasperation.

She arrived at Barbara Tobin’s house a few minutes walk away at 5.50pm last Friday and the two mothers laughed as they tried to coax their young sons out of the attic.

“They’d play up there all day on the PlayStation if you let them,” said Barbara yesterday, remembering how Mary called out to her younger boy, six-year-old Andrew, that it was time to go home while Barbara urged her seven-year-old, Evan, to let his little pal go.

All the while Andrew’s 10-year-old brother, Glen, was at the door hopping up and down with impatience, reminding his mother he was going to be late for football practice.

“Mary says to me I wish that PlayStation would break. She was laughing though. She said it was supposed to be fine on Saturday so the boys would probably go out on their bikes. She preferred that to them being inside playing computer games.

“I brought Evan to the pictures on Saturday so he wasn’t out with the boys but I thought it was bit odd we didn’t see them on Sunday. But then I thought with Brian [Mary’s husband] away, maybe she’d taken the boys down to her mother’s.”

Barbara was just one of the many residents of the Killakee estate in the south Co Dublin suburb of Firhouse who were shocked by the news that Mary and her two boys were dead.

Described as petite and looking younger than her 40 years, she had black hair, a ready smile and an always immaculate appearance that was a legacy of her training as a beautician, a trade she worked at before joining the bank.

“I can’t believe it. I was up and down past the house three times yesterday,” said one woman.

“They were lovely people and the loveliest kids. I just hope it was a gas leak or something that they didn’t suffer.”

One man said: “She was a jolly girl and Brian’s a lovely guy. He’s mad about cars - he’s into rally cars. But he wouldn’t be away often. You could set your clock by him going to work at 7.30 every morning and coming home around six.”

Another man said: “We’re devastated. This is a good place to live. People know their neighbours and we’re lucky to have good neighbours - like Brian and Mary. This is just unbelievable.”

“They were lovely kids, really well behaved, never in trouble,” said Carmel Mooney, whose daughter was a playmate of Andrew’s.

“And you would never have a bad word to say about Mary.”

Fifteen-year-old Sinead Mooney vouched for Mary’s devotion as a mother.

“Glen got a scrambler bike for Christmas and he had the helmet and everything and he was tearing around but Mary was always watching him. She cared so much about her children she was nearly afraid to leave them out of her hands. She was very protective.”

It was a caring instinct that extended to all youngsters. Myra Blacoe recalled the last time she spoke to Mary, last Thursday afternoon.

“My little boy was down playing with them the other day and when it was time to come home, Mary rang and asked would she walk him up. It’s only two minutes’ walk and I can nearly see Mary’s house from mine but that’s the kind she was.

“She’d worry about them. She wouldn’t like to let a child out of her sight. I’ll have to tell the kids their little friends are dead. I don’t know how I’m going to do that.”

Glen had a place in the choir for his school’s production of Snow White which was supposed to have opened last night but was cancelled because of the tragedy.

Andrew was excited about seeing his big brother in the musical and was looking forward to celebrating his seventh birthday next month. Mary was over the moon at becoming an aunt for the first time at Christmas when her only sister gave birth to a baby.

The sisters and their parents had been mourning the loss of a brother through illness a few years ago and it was good to be gathering for a celebration after the past sadness.

Sinead Mooney was at Ms Tobin’s house last Friday when Mary came rushing in to collect Andrew.

“She was in good form, like she always was. I just remember her smiling and saying bye, bye, I better go. I can’t believe they’re all gone.”